The wind was wrong.
Kein stood near the edge of Oakhaven, his eyes fixed on the distant treeline. The Forest of Monsters had always been alive—howls, rustling leaves, unseen movement.
Now… it was quiet.
Too quiet.
Behind him, the village was alive with activity. The soldiers from Frostwall had arrived before dusk. Barricades were raised. Torches lined the roads. Orders were shouted, steel clashed, and mages traced glowing sigils into the dirt.
Preparation.
Confidence.
Normalcy.
It felt wrong.
"They'll move at first light."
Kein didn't turn. He recognized the voice.
Soren stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the same forest. Gone was the drunkard from the tavern. In his place stood something sharper. Something dangerous.
"The Commander wants the men rested before we push toward the grotto," Soren continued. "Smart call."
Kein said nothing.
Soren glanced down at him. "You're not convinced."
"…They're not waiting."
Soren frowned. "What?"
Kein hesitated. He couldn't explain it—not without sounding insane. Not without revealing too much.
But the feeling wouldn't leave.
In his past life, the attack came without warning.
This time… everything had changed.
"That cave," Kein said slowly. "It wasn't just a gate. It felt like something was watching."
Soren studied him for a moment, then looked back toward the forest.
"…We'll know soon enough."
Far beyond the treeline, deep within the darkness of the hidden grotto—
Something moved.
A figure knelt before a towering presence, its body trembling.
"My lord… the humans have gathered. Soldiers from the northern city. They prepare to advance at dawn."
Silence followed.
Then—
A soft, amused exhale.
"How diligent."
The air grew heavier. The kneeling demon pressed its head against the ground, unable to breathe.
"They believe they hold the initiative."
A step echoed through the cavern.
Then another.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—tall, composed, untouched by the grotesque forms surrounding him.
He looked almost human.
Almost.
"…Shall we proceed as planned?" the subordinate dared to ask.
Mreylin tilted his head slightly, as if considering something trivial.
"No."
The single word froze the air.
"They have gathered their strength… how convenient."
His lips curved into a faint smile.
"Why should we wait for them to come to us?"
The demon on the ground trembled.
"My lord… you mean—"
"We will go to them."
A pause.
Then, softly—
"Tonight."
The night deepened.
Oakhaven settled into uneasy silence. Torches burned low. Soldiers rotated watch shifts. The mages' wards pulsed faintly around the village perimeter.
Everything was prepared.
Everything was ready.
And yet—
Kein couldn't sleep.
He sat by the window, staring into the dark.
His chest felt tight.
His instincts screamed.
Move.
Do something.
But what?
He had already changed the future.
So why did it feel like he was falling behind?
"…Goddess," he whispered.
Silence.
As always.
Then—
The wards flickered.
Just once.
Kein's eyes snapped open.
Outside—
A soldier frowned, looking toward the barrier line.
"Did you see that?"
Another shook his head. "Probably just mana fluctuation—"
The ground cracked.
A deafening roar tore through the night.
Light exploded outward—not warm, not holy—but violent, jagged, wrong.
The barrier shattered.
Not weakened.
Not broken.
Erased.
"ENEMY ATTACK—!"
The shout barely left the soldier's throat before something tore through him.
Steel rang. Blood sprayed. Screams followed.
Chaos.
Pure, instant chaos.
Demons poured from the darkness—twisted forms, crawling, leaping, shrieking. Not beasts.
Not monsters.
Something worse.
"Form ranks! FORM RANKS!"
"Protect the villagers!"
"Mages—barrier! BARRIER!"
Kein stumbled outside, his heart slamming against his chest.
This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.
This wasn't—
A shadow moved above.
Too fast.
A soldier raised his shield—
And disappeared.
Gone.
No impact.
No resistance.
Just… gone.
Kein froze.
Then—
He felt it.
A presence.
Not loud.
Not violent.
But absolute.
The battlefield slowed.
The screams dulled.
Even the air itself seemed to hesitate.
From beyond the broken barricade… a single figure stepped forward.
Unhurried.
Unconcerned.
Untouched by the chaos surrounding him.
Mreylin.
A knight charged him.
"DIE, YOU FILTH—!"
The blade came down—fast, precise, perfect.
It stopped.
Mid-air.
Not blocked.
Not caught.
Stopped.
The knight's expression twisted in confusion.
"…What?"
Mreylin didn't even look at him.
"…Fragile."
The sword bent.
Then shattered.
The knight followed.
Not cut.
Not struck.
Simply… erased.
Kein's breath caught in his throat.
This—
This was not a monster.
This was not something they could fight.
Mreylin's gaze shifted.
Slowly.
Calmly.
It landed on Kein.
For a moment—
Everything else disappeared.
"…Interesting."
The word was soft.
Curious.
Like a man observing something mildly unusual.
Kein's entire body locked.
His instincts screamed louder than ever before.
Run.
Run now.
But his legs wouldn't move.
Mreylin took a step forward.
The ground beneath him cracked—not from force, but from presence alone.
"You…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…feel different."
Kein's vision shook.
The faint, lingering warmth deep within him—the last trace of the Goddess—
Reacted.
For the first time since his return—
It pulsed.
Mreylin paused.
Then smiled.
Not wide.
Not cruel.
Just… certain.
"…Ah."
Around them, the village burned.
The soldiers fought desperately.
Soren cut through two demons, his breathing heavy—but even he hesitated now, eyes locked onto the same figure.
"…What the hell is that…" he muttered.
No one answered.
Because deep down—
They all knew.
This battle was already lost.
The night had come early.
And it had brought something far worse than death.